


come on out for the rising

by Anonymous



Series: you build a fine shrine in me [3]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Rituals, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 17:16:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21103100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After a few too-friendly run-ins with Dallas players during the game, Nicke and the Caps remind Ovi who his pack is.





	come on out for the rising

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hypocorism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypocorism/gifts).

> for jamie. love you honeybro.

The win was nice. Even nicer was the anticipation on Ovi’s face after their customary fistbump, knowing some kind of consequence was coming.

Not because Ovi did anything wrong - his instinct to captain, to support, even if the object of his attention was on the other team was why Nicke loved him. But the constant hands, gazes, and asses of another pack on  _ Nicke’s _ packmate set his teeth on edge and his hackles rising.

He says nothing as the team hits the showers, loud and raucous with the win. Before the first guy can start for the bus, though, Nicke stands up from his stall, nodding at Dima to lock the doors.

The room quiets gradually as the team realises something is happening. The new guys are looking nervous. They haven’t had any punishments yet, this year; not even any fines, and this was a penalty heavy game. Jonas, in particular, looks like he might be sick.

Tom clearly has an idea of what’s about to happen, though, going by the eager look in his eyes and the way his ears are almost visibly pricked forward despite still being human shaped. Kuzy, of course, looks delighted, and even Carly looks as eager as he ever does, tongue making a slow circuit of his lips and eyes going even more lidded.

Nicke crosses to Ovi’s stall, pulling him up before he puts on anything more than a towel. The towel is covering, with some difficulty, a thigh and half his dick. 

“We’re going to remind you,” Nicke says, not loud, but clear enough to reach every breathlessly quiet listener, “exactly who you’re going to be running with, come the full moon.”

Ovi’s eyes crinkle, even as his mouth stays serious, and he nods, squaring his shoulders like he would if he was about to take a punishment. From the looks on several faces, Nicke knows they’re thinking along the same lines. He nods to Tom first.

“Anywhere you want,” he says, settling his hand on the back of Ovi’s neck in a gesture that says more clearly than any words ‘except for here’. “And leave a mark.”

Tom grins, stepping forward and leaning in, biting down hard just to the right of Ovi’s shoulder. It doesn’t break skin, but it doesn’t need to. There’s already a bruise rushing to the surface, and before he steps away Whip leans up to lick into Alex’s mouth, panting a little as he steps away.

Kuzma bites like he’s kissing, and kisses like he bites. He dives into Alex’s mouth like he was suspended from physical touch as much as he was from ice, taking his time and finishing with a neat bite just above Ovi’s left eyebrow.

Oshbabe is as enthusiastic with this as he is with all of their rituals, cradling Alex’s head with both hands as he kisses him and then licking a long sloppy line along his half-covered dick. Nicke shakes his head at him but can’t help smiling. After all, he hadn’t said it was off limits. 

It might be because they’re still uncomfortable with the Caps, Nicke doesn’t know, and if that’s the case they’ve definitely got work to do before the next game, but the only new guy on the roster that does more than hesitantly scent Ovi is Radko, who bites gently at the thin skin at Ovi’s wrist before flushing dark beneath his beard and backing away. Nicke smiles at him in approval, remembering the surprise on his face when he’d been pulled into a hug celly after his first goal, and makes a note to himself to make sure the man has enough support for the full moon. The first full after a new cub can be  _ rough _ . 

Which, speaking of, Ovi is currently wincing as Lars bends his head to the sensitive inside of a thigh, taking his time mouthing along his chosen patch in a way Nicke is sure feels wonderful given Lars has his usual scruff. On the other side of Ovi’s hip, Carly leaves a neat bite and a drag of his thumb against the line of his tattoos.

Ilya is still nervous, hanging back until Jakob grabs both him and Garnet by the hand and tows them over to Ovi’s side, flashing a smile up at Nicke before leaning in to bite at one well-defined bicep. Garnet seems to steel himself, looking at Nicke nervously (as well he might) but responds willingly enough when Nicke nods for him to go ahead, his kiss forceful enough that Ovi’s eyes fly open in surprise and pleasure. Ilya is shyer, merely kissing both of Ovi’s cheeks before retreating quickly to the safety of his stall. Nicke makes sure to smile at him and makes eye contact with Holts, who nods in acknowledgment. Holts’ll make sure Sammy is all right. Braden never breaks the skin when he bites, preferring instead to worry at Alex’s throat until a bright lovebite blooms. Nicke wouldn’t let anyone but Holts bite there, but he knows where the line is and where not to cross.

Something Hagelin doesn’t seem to understand, because before Holts is even finished he’s there, sweeping his hair out of his face with one hand and reaching for Ovi’s neck with the other. Nicke growls, low in his throat, and Hags freezes, eyes flicking nervously from his face to Ovi’s. Ovi’s neck is  _ Nicke’s _ , and Nicke’s alone. His mating claim alone of the marks they give him tonight will be the one that lingers for years to come, and his kiss the one Sasha will have long after the other packmates are in their own beds. 

Always his touchstone, Alex extends his arm, palm down, proffering his forearm to Hags, whose eyes flicker with acceptance before he bends to bite it.

Despite all the new people on the team and the looming threat of changes ahead in the next couple of years, it’s nice to have this bit of familiarity to rest on - the simplicity of scent and heat and teeth and Sasha’s neck fitting into the curve of his hand.

And then finally,  _ finally  _ Nicke’s eyes flash gold as he moves Ovi’s chain off of his neck and leans down, fangs lengthing enough to ensure that the bite he’s about to deliver would certainly leave a mark. Sasha’s hands are opening and closing, nails beginning to dig into his palms before Nicke touches the back of one of them in gentle admonishment. He takes it in his own and captures it against Ovi’s stomach, holding him still.

He waits until he feels the humming tension slacken, Sasha going loose and obediently still in his arms. He waits, thumb rubbing softly over where his hand is pressed up against Ovi's, letting anticipation thicken in the air between them, around them. And then, he bites, fast and hard, on the back of Sasha's neck right before it hits his shoulder. Someone makes some kind of sound, but Nicke barely notices it. Sasha is pliant and happy in his arms, and he smells /right/ again. Like pack. Like Nicke.

Ovi turns his head a little, eyes half lidded, when Nicke takes his mouth away. Nicke kisses him, brief, the angle is bad but that isn't the point, and rubs his hand over his belly one more time, pats his hip.

“Ours,” he says, loud enough for the room to hear, and then, just for Sasha, “ _ Mine _ .”

Sasha’s looking at him through eyes half closed with pleasure and his voice low and strong as he replies, “ _ Yours _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> jamie (hypocorism) wrote a CRITICAL two paragraphs of this, a debt i can never repay bc otherwise i'd still be sitting staring blankly at the google doc. theyre amazing, btw, so u should check out their work.


End file.
